


Good Nights

by ilikebigficsandicannotlie (HairSoCurly)



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29046123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HairSoCurly/pseuds/ilikebigficsandicannotlie
Summary: Set at the end of Season 4, Lizzie has a bad day in the O.R. and Romano offers to buy her a drink after work to make up for it.
Relationships: Elizabeth Corday/Robert Romano
Kudos: 1





	Good Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a "Write a Wrong" Tag from RocketLover. Let me know if there's a wrong you'd like me to "write".

It had been a long and exhausting day; Saturdays at work always were just by their nature. Everyone was stepping up since Anspaugh was taking time off following his son’s death, and the cherry on top was the M and M scheduled for the Morganstern/Benton surgery.

To call it a disaster would have been putting it lightly. Elizabeth had barely been able to look at Peter during it, opting instead to hide her face in her hand out of embarrassment for Peter’s involvement. It was hard to watch, and a small amount of guilt crept into her, knowing that Peter was never meant to be in the O.R. with Morganstern. Elizabeth had expressed her concerns about the Chief of Surgery to Peter, and he had all but brushed her aside, unwilling to acknowledge anything could be amiss with his mentor. An accumulation of three generations of surgical instincts has gone off around the senior surgeon, but without any hard proof that something was wrong, Elizabeth had been ignored. Now her friend was suspended at the hands of his mentor.

The hits kept coming, though. Allison Beaumont had been brought in. Now a paramedic trainee, she had been caught up in the aftermath of a bombing of all things. Surgery was yet again in Allison’s future, and like the first fateful trip into the O.R., Allison was crashing. Only this time, Romano wasn’t stepping in to save the day.

“She’s been in asystole for twenty minutes, let’s call it.”

“Another seven of epi.” Elizabeth glanced across the table at Romano, not yet ready to give up on their patient and hoping he would back her.

“She’s already had _ten_ , Lizzie.”

“And we got a response. _Seven more_.”

“Two atonal beats is not a response.”

“Let’s start an epinephrine drip.”

“Yeah, and why don’t we give her a heart transplant while we’re at it.”

Elizabeth felt her blood run cold at his tone. This was the side of Romano she didn’t like, the side that she seemed to be getting the most of lately. Attempting to revive a patient that she had put so much time and effort into that she had lost nights of sleep over made a dam break in Elizabeth.

“ _Why don’t you just stop being such a prick_. Get me two units of packed cells.” She didn’t even give Romano a second glance.

The remainder of the surgery had been tense. They’d barely managed to get Allison through it, and Elizabeth was looking forward to going home to a hot shower and a bottle of wine. It was the best she could hope for, considering she’d signed up for a Sunday shift of all things. A work-a-holic with idle hands was what she was.

Almost home free and out the door having said her goodbyes to the paramedics checking on Allison, Elizabeth heard a voice following her down the hall.

“Lizzie.”

Always Lizzie with Romano, his was not the voice she wanted to hear on her escape to the elevators. Not after their run-in in the O.R. Still in his scrubs, he caught up with her, removing his scrub cap as he spoke.

“I uh, I just wanted to apologize for the way I spoke during the Beaumont Surgery. I know that she means a lot to you, and I just hope you’ll forgive me.”

An apology had been the last thing she had expected from Romano, but a quick glance in his direction revealed remorse not just in his voice but on his face.

“Of course, it’s been a crazy day for all of us.” Arriving at the elevator, Elizabeth hit the call button, paying close attention to the elevator in an attempt to not acknowledge Romano. At the moment, he was all that was standing between her and a glass of wine.

And he _just kept talking_.

“I um, I get off in about an hour do you wanna, ah get a drink uh, decompress?”

Finally turning to face him, she sighed. “Look, I’m knackered. Uh, any other day. Okay?” The elevator dinged and then opened. Freedom was awaiting her at the bottom of the ride, and she could taste the Chardonnay. A quick turn and Elizabeth had stepped into the car, and for some reason, Romano still followed, going so far as to hold the door open.

“I uh, I understand. Look ah, if you change your mind, you have my home number.” 

“Yes, I do.” She smiled at him as she spoke but wasn’t sure if it was for him or for the elevator doors for thankfully closing.

Upon arriving at her flat, Elizabeth dropped her bag and headed straight for the fridge. A nice glass of Chardonnay and a hot bath had left her mind upon finding the bottle practically empty, and instead, she reached for a bottle of beer. A shower beer was calling her name; it would work it’s wonders just the same as a glass of wine and a long bath.

Grabbing a wrap, Elizabeth put her hair up before stepping into the steaming shower, letting the water wash away her frustrations from the day. The cold beer felt like a loving embrace, and it let her mind wander to the long day. Romano, of all people, came to mind. He had been blowing hot and cold of late, and Elizabeth was never sure which side of him she’d get. She’s been grasping at straws trying to figure out how to not always land on the wrong foot with him, but it seemed the longer she was in the states, the less enamored they were becoming of their work relationship. And then there would be days like today where she’d get Mr. Hyde only for Doctor Jekyll to show up apologizing for his earlier behavior. Or course, she had spent her fair share of time poking Jekyll with a stick only to be shocked when she got Hyde for her efforts.

The ripples of water ran down her body, taking with them all pretense that today he was the only one in the wrong. A nagging voice in the back of her mind kept telling her, ‘you called him a prick in the O.R.’ It was probably the beer combined with the hot shower making her delirious. As she turned off the water, she couldn’t get Romano out of her head, though. An olive branch had been extended from the side more grievously injured in today’s round, and she’s blown him off the second she could. Didn’t even offer an apology of her own.

“Bloody hell.”

Stepping out of the bathroom, Elizabeth glanced at her alarm clock. The shower had consumed a solid forty-five-minute, and with the added time of her commute home, it was around the time Romano said he’d be off work. Pulling out her phone book, she flipped to her sponsor’s contact information and dialed. If she were lucky, he wouldn’t be home yet, and the machine would pick up, sparing her the awkward phone call. At the sound of a beep, her hesitant voice left its message.

The cab had let her out on the corner, soft jazz spilling out of the bar, inviting her to come in and stay awhile. It thankfully wasn’t crowded due to the music not being live, and Elizabeth was able to grab the open corner of the bar, dropping her bag into the stool opposite of her. She was giving Romano half an hour and then headed home if he didn’t show. After nursing her glass of wine for twenty minutes, Romano finally arrived.

Sliding into the open bar stool, Romano looked over at Elizabeth and smiled. He was still in his suit from work, and Elizabeth suspected he wasn’t home very long after listening to her message.

“Hey Lizzie, started without me, I see. I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

“Ah, no. Fifteen, twenty minutes tops. Just long enough to be tempted by the food menu.”

“Awesome. They’ve got a limited menu, but it’s all pretty good. Did you eat before you came, or is this dinner?”

“I got home and couldn’t bring myself to make the frozen monstrosity I bought that supposedly counts as food.”

“ _Ah_ , so that’s why you called. You needed to go out for food.” There was a hint of something in his voice that Elizabeth couldn’t identify, and she thought briefly it might be disappointment.

“No. It was actually the shower beer that did it.” She said, laughing.

“ _Shower beer?”_ An incredulous tone established itself in Romano’s voice. “What are you, an ickle firstie in college hoping to get into a sorority?”

“Don’t laugh at me. It was a long day I couldn’t decide between a drink or a hot shower.”

Still looking at her as if she had grown two heads, Romano pressed on. “Lizzie, don’t grown women take five-hour bubble baths with a bottle of red after bad days? Not do the cheap college version with _a shower beer?_ ”

“It was instant gratification. And I was out of wine.” Romano was outright laughing at her now, and she took offense. “Look, once I had a chance to relax a little, I um, I realize I sort of blew you off earlier.” Elizabeth didn’t need to glance at her companion to know that his posture had taken on a ridged tenseness to it. “I just wanted to go home and call it a day, and you were being more than courteous by apologizing when, ah, I clearly owed you an apology of my own. I should have never called you a prick in the O.R., and yet all you were was nice to me about it.”

For a moment, she didn’t think Romano would say anything, and then he slid his hand across the bar to squeeze hers. “Thank you, Elizabeth. Today wasn’t a good day, and…well… look, I don’t like being at odds with you. It means a lot to me that you’d call.”

Elizabeth glanced up from where his hand covered hers to look him in the eye and only found honest sincerity there. He genuinely wanted to get on with her, and at that moment, Elizabeth firmly decided to be happy that she had dragged herself away from the siren call of the couch in order to have drinks with Romano. Truth be told, she had been baffled for quite some time on how they had gotten so far off from the enjoyable year in London.

“Yeah, it was a bad day. Bad week maybe? _Bad few weeks_?” A questioning glance at Romano confirmed that it hadn’t just been her imagination. A chagrined nod was his response. “Let’s fix that then.”

“I’d like that, Elizabeth.” 

The bartender finally came back around, and Elizabeth broke down and ordered an appetizer, with Romano ordering a bottle of wine to share.

“You know, Dr. Romano, I do have to work tomorrow. A glass or two of wine would have been fine.”

“We’re not at work, Lizzie; you _can_ call me Robert.” He was looking at her over his glass of wine, a somewhat offended expression on his face at Elizabeth’s formality.

If he wanted to go that route, then she might as well be cheeky. “ _Robert_? Surely you don’t prefer _Rocket?_ ” 

“Rocket is .. all well and good when I’m trying to dazzle someone. I’d prefer my friends call me Robert, though.”

“And are we? Friends, that is?”

“ _Lizzie._ If we’re not friends by the time we finish off this bottle of wine, I don’t think we ever will be.” He reached for the bottle, topping off his glass to drive home his point and then offering the same for hers.

“Well then, we should order more food and get to drinking.”

It was closing time, and they had managed to polish off the wine and squeeze in a nightcap before paying their tab. Robert had waved Elizabeth off when she had attempted to split the bill, stating that they should have done this long ago. She couldn’t help but agree. With the wine to relax them, the surgical duo had managed to cover many of their workplace grievances, shedding light on the vast scale of miscommunication that had befallen them. By the end of the night, they had managed to laugh at how ridiculous they had been for not simply speaking up in the first place. The topic of work had waned quickly, though, and Elizabeth had found herself genuinely enjoying Robert’s company. Gone was the pigheaded man she had encountered in America, and in his place was the relaxed and charming Rocket Romano she had enjoyed working within London.

Only this time around, he wasn’t trying to impress her surgically. He was Robert now, and while this new man retained the charm and intellect of Rocket, Robert was much more laid back. He was funny and witty in a way he couldn’t be with colleagues, and on more than one occasion, Elizabeth had caught herself watching him, mesmerized by the complex man next to her.

Once outside the bar, they found themselves walking to a busier intersection in hopes of flagging down a cab; their attempts were half-hearted at best.

“I’m glad we did this, Robert, I really am.”

“Yeah, I ah, was just thinking about that.” He glanced towards Elizabeth, momentarily holding her eyes. “Would you have an interest in doing this again? Say tomorrow night?”

Startled by his question, Elizabeth stopped short. “Tomorrow? I’m on most of the day, and then with work on Monday, I don’t think another night at the bar would be a good idea.”

“I ah, was thinking more along the lines of dinner. I normally cook something a little nicer on Sundays, and since you were complaining about having lived on take-out and T.V. dinners the past few weeks, I thought maybe you’d like an actual meal.”

For a moment, she was frozen with no idea of how to respond. While Robert had proven to be an enjoyable drinking companion, Elizabeth was hesitant to spend more time with him just yet. It all was a little too recent.

Noticing her hesitance, Robert backtracked. “It was just an idea, Lizzie; I was trying to make sure you didn’t end up in the E.R. from the junk that makes up frozen food, not make you uncomfortable.” Outwardly he was all bluster, but for a moment, Robert had allowed a disappointed tone to seep in, and Elizabeth caught on to it.

“ _Oh no_ , my hesitation comes from not knowing if what you cook will be better or worse than what’s currently in my freezer. I can rely on the content of that, but I’m not so sure about the content of your cooking.”

Nudging him with her elbow for good measure, Elizabeth was relieved at his short laugh and offended look.

“You wound me deeply, Elizabeth. Nothing I cook will put you in the E.R. unless it’s from a food coma because it was too delicious to stop eating.”

“You promise your food won’t kill me?”

“Lizzie, look at me. Do I look like I live on fast-food and cup of soup?”

He had said it in a mock hurt tone, and while Elizabeth laughed, she couldn’t help but glance him over. She had never seen anything to suggest that Robert was anything but a healthy and fit man.

“No. It’s not as if your suspenders are there to get around a beer gut” – “ _Hey!”_ – “I’ll give you that. I’m not off till seven, so as long as you don’t mind that…”

“That works. I’m in for a few hours tomorrow anyway for some paperwork. I should be off a bit before you unless something comes in that you need a hand with.”

They had finally made it to a busier intersection where a cab was eager to be flagged down. Putting it off no longer, Robert flagged down a ride and put Elizabeth into it, vowing to catch the next one.

“Good night Robert. Thanks for the evening.”

It was a short cab ride to her flat, and Elizabeth smiled the whole way back. She was not smiling, however, when her alarm went off the next morning. There was that lovely moment when she was still cocooned in the duvet and not fully awake that always made her regret taking a Sunday shift.

The blaring of the alarm was incessant, and Elizabeth was forced to get up and greet the day and go to work. But first tea.

As surreal as her Saturday night had been, Elizabeth’s Sunday morning was attempting to top that. A chance run-in with Robert while on the way to meet the medevac, and she now had lunch plans; Robert was suggesting they talk about her fellowship and if she wanted to renew. Elizabeth was headed to said lunch when she ran into Peter of all people.

“Hey”

“Peter, I thought you weren’t coming in.”

“I wasn’t, but I decided to come in and uh do some post-op notes.” 

“You look dapper.” He was dressed far too nice to just be coming into work for notes, and Elizabeth was enjoying it.

“Thank you, my son’s baptism was this morning. Hey, listen, you wanna get something to eat?”

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’ve got lunch with Romano. We’re going over my fellowship.”

“Ahhh.”

“Did you really come in for post-op notes?” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Actually. I uh, I went by your place last night.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth froze; it was the last thing she had expected to hear from Peter.

“Yeah, you weren’t home, though.”

“No,” she gave a sideways glance at Peter, trying to determine what to say. “I ah, I went to a bar last night.” She had no idea what to tell Peter about her Saturday night; it was not a conversation suited for the hallways of the E.R. Peter, however, was not a stupid man and could tell she was holding something back.

“Look, can we talk about this later? I’m going to be late for lunch, and uh, well, you know how Romano is about being on time.”

“Yeah, yeah. How about dinner tonight?”

“I’ve ah, I’ve got plans.”

“ _On a Sunday_?” The incredulous tone in Peter’s voice did not sit well with Elizabeth, and it got her hackles up. She could have plans whenever she well pleased, and Peter didn’t get to be cross with her if he didn’t have the foresight to make them with her.

“Yes, Peter _on a Sunday_. Perhaps if you had called instead of dropping by unannounced, you might have had a better chance of seeing me.” Exasperated, Elizabeth rolled her eyes and walked off. She liked Peter well enough, but she had no time for men who expected her to just be available to them whenever they pleased. Peter was more than welcome to call her like a normal person and ask her out properly instead of showing up at her door looking for sex. She hasn’t been that to a man since university.

Lunch with Robert had come and gone in a rather easy-going manner. Elizabeth had made such a face when telling him about the Gloucester Royal offer that Robert nearly aspirated his soup. It ended with a promise from Robert to start the paperwork for her second year stateside on Monday. The only major concern Elizabeth had was being reliant upon someone else for her medical license indefinitely, and while Robert feigned hurt that she didn’t want his sponsorship forever, he very much understood where she was coming from and offered to help Elizabeth go to at with the Illinois Medical Board.

As amicable as the lunch had been, the surgery after was anything but. Peter had taken the consult in the E.R., and it was a tense procedure. Tense enough that Robert had picked up on it and was giving them funny looks. Just great. It was not what Elizabeth needed today; Sundays were supposed to be a day of rest, something that Elizabeth should have considered _before_ she signed up to work it.

With the patient in recovery, Elizabeth glanced at her watch, only an hour to go. Robert had left after the surgery with the intent of prepping dinner, and Elizabeth wished she could have left at the same time. She definitely wished to be anywhere but there when she saw Peter approaching. He said he was off to the rooftop for some air and asked if she’d join him. Since it was a request and not a demand or assumption, Elizabeth acquiesced.

It was a pleasant evening out, and Elizabeth savored the moment of peace; something told her it wouldn’t last long.

“Look about earlier; I’m sorry I was angry. You caught me off guard with not being home and finding out you were at a bar. Combined with Romano taking up your lunch plans..it came out wrong. Yesterday was a bad day and I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts, I thought you’d be there. ”

Huh. So that’s how it was to be. Elizabeth wasn’t pleased that Peter was missing the point, he was a _man_ after all, and they think with the wrong head more than half the time. She was shocked, however, that while trying to apologize, he was still showing his displeasure that she went out in the first place.

“Peter, I’m a grown woman. I can go out for dinner and drinks if I well, please. You don’t have any claim to me that would negate that.”

“Yeah, but I just thought that we…”

“We what? You’ve made it clear that you’ve got a major issue with going out with me; I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that other than act as if it means you’re not interested and there’s nothing between us other than a friendship and harmless flirting.” He looked away from her, and Elizabeth knew she had struck a chord. “Peter, I’ve always been perfectly clear in my intentions. You’re handsome, fun to be around, and we have the same insane schedule. And you’ve been clear that while that prospect intrigues you to some degree, you’re not going to act on it because of an issue I culturally don’t understand. I’m not the sort to sit around and wait on a man. You could have called or paged me last night instead of assuming I’d just be available for the kind of _comfort_ you were looking for. My days of _boys_ treating me like a booty call were left behind in university, and that’s exactly what that was when you showed up without calling. I don’t appreciate it. If you want my time, then you’ve got to be a man and ask for it.” 

Boys had been said with such a nasty tone that Peter had taken a step back from her. It was several moments before he was able to answer, and Elizabeth was getting impatient.

“Look, you’re right. I don’t.. have a claim to you, and I should have called first. I’m asking now, though. Let’s go somewhere and have dinner when you get off.”

“I already told you, Peter, _I’ve made dinner plans_.”

“Seriously? Come on, Elizabeth, I get you’re mad at me, but do we really need to play these games? You don’t really have dinner plans; you’re just saying that to get back at me.”

All Elizabeth could think was, _didn’t your mother ever teach you not to anger red headed women?_ She was officially done with listening to Peter and trying to smooth things over; instead, she adopted the iciness normally reserved for dealing with her male colleagues in London.

“Actually, Peter, I _do_ have dinner plans for this evening. _I made them last night leaving the bar._ Perhaps if you had called and paged me like any _normal person,_ you would have caught me _before_ I agreed to dinner with someone else. Or even better, you could have met me at the bar and _had dinner with me then._ But I’m not a mind-reader and could have never known you were finally interested in something more than friendship.” 

The loud huff and quick turn Elizabeth made left Peter in no doubt of her irritable with him. The added near-miss of the hair slap she had aimed at him was the icing on the cake. As Elizabeth made her way back down to the surgical floor, she fumed. Peter had gotten under her skin enough that she gleefully let him believe that she’d met a random man at the bar and made dinner plans. The accusatory tone Peter had taken on top of everything else made Elizabeth forgo telling him the truth that she’d met up with Romano in an attempt to not completely wreck her fellowship and working relationship with the man. But Peter didn’t know this _because he didn’t ask, he only demanded._ As she stepped back onto the surgical floor, Elizabeth made a beeline for the lockers; determined to sneak out early least, she let loose another verbal lashing on her colleague, Dr. Snake. Perhaps her first impression had been more accurate than she thought.

It was this same cross mood that Elizabeth managed to greet Robert with when he opened his front door to her twenty minutes later. 

“Lizzie! You’re a bit early, ah come in.”

“It was leave early or commit murder, and since you weren’t there to help me hide a body…” trailing off, Elizabeth shrugged off her jacket with Robert’s help, looking around the foyer as she did so. It was sparsely decorated, but the bones of the house were lovely. 

Sensing her wandering gaze, Robert offered up an explanation. “I haven’t really gotten around to decorating yet. I’ve only been here about a month and figured I’d live in it a little before changing much. The real question, though, _whose_ body would I have been helping you hide?”

Robert laughed at the face she made as she turned to look at him. An eyebrow raised, both eyes rolling, and an angry snarl formed on her lips.

“ _Peter Bloody Benton_ , that’s who.”

“ _Oh really?_ What did he do to piss you off? Surely you didn’t fall for the operating without an attending thing again.” Seeing her shocked expression, Robert fessed up. “I pried it out of the anesthesiologist, everyone in that room should have stopped you, and they didn’t.” It was the wrong comment because Elizabeth’s lips pursed tightly, and the thought _if looks could kill_ briefly drifted through his mind. “Why don’t I get you a drink and then let you have a rant about Benton.”

Robert lead the way to the kitchen, but Elizabeth was sure she could have followed the enticing aroma just fine. Dinner was clearly in progress, and Elizabeth leaned against the counter, waiting somewhat impatiently as Robert poured the wine.

“Right. Benton. What’d he do?”

“To start with, he’s a bloody knob head with no knob.” The general grumble coming from Elizabeth subsided at the first sip of wine. “Mmm. This is lovely.”

“I’d give you the bottle if I thought it’d improve your mood, but we do have work tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“So. Benton.” Robert had an amused glint in his eye, and Elizabeth couldn’t decide if he just liked gossip or didn’t like Benton.

“He…he was a little too presumptuous. Thinking that…a conversation wasn’t needed in order to be _more than friends._ That… he could make that choice and just expect me to be available to him.” Closing her eyes to rest her head in her hands, Elizabeth missed the flash of anger on Robert’s face at the description of Benton’s actions.

“ _I see.”_

“He showed up at my flat last night as if I’m some bloody trollop, just available to a man on his whim.”

“Oh. You ah, didn’t mention that at lunch.”

“I only found out today. I was out last night, and he _didn’t appreciate it.”_ Another gulp of wine, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes, electing to sit up straight instead of slouched into her drink. “Look, I don’t really want to talk about it, I thought he and I were friends, and I’ve given him more than a piece of my mind for it. Why don’t we talk about something else? Like what are you cooking me for dinner, because I’m famished.”

By the time dinner was finished, Elizabeth’s mood and the bottle of wine were significantly lighter. The duo had moved on from topics of work to entertain stories from their lives, and Elizabeth couldn’t remember a more enjoyable evening since coming to America. So enjoyable that she was shocked to realize the late hour. Somehow they had managed to stay talking till quarter after ten, and Elizabeth still needed to call for a cab. 

“I really didn’t mean to stay this late” curled into a corner of the rather comfortable couch, Elizabeth’s words elicited an eye roll from Robert.

“ _Sure, Lizzie_. First, you eat all my food, then drink all my wine, and now you’re keeping me up late on a school night. I see through your nefarious plans.” Neither could keep a straight face at Robert’s dramatics, and they ended up in a fit of laughter.

“Well, if you didn’t want the company, you could have burnt the meal. I’d probably have gone running after that.”

“Nah. I wanted the company.”

“But seriously, thank you for dinner. I’ve not eaten that well in weeks, I’m afraid.”

“Happy to oblige. We should do this again sometime. After all, _someone_ has to make sure you’re not living off of microwaved ramen.” 

“Are you offering to cook for me again? If so, this should definitely be a weekly thing. Can I put in for a menu request? There a plenty of things from back home I miss having. Maybe a dessert next time as well.” 

The look of horror on Robert’s face was enough to make her laugh. He was about to retort when the horn of a cab sounded outside, signaling it was time to leave. They got up, and Robert walked her to the door, pausing before opening it for her.

“You know very well, _Lizzie_ , that I wasn’t offering to be your personal chef.” Her laughter confirmed this. “I was thinking though, that ah, we go out somewhere next time. Someplace nice, make sure you’re ah, enjoying Chicago.” The teasing tone had quickly left his voice for something slightly nervous, and it made Elizabeth unsure of what he was really suggesting.

“Your birthday is coming up in a few weeks; maybe do something for that?” He must have sensed Elizabeth’s hesitation because the teasing came back quickly. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble after all.”

The cab honked again, and Elizabeth was momentarily distracted from trying to determine what the dinner invite really was. It was late, and she had work in the morning, but Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile at the way the evening had turned out. She and Robert were very firmly on the path to being good friends, and yet she was torn.

Normally if Elizabeth had that nice a time with a man, they’d be exchanging numbers at the end of the night, or if it was a very good evening indeed, then the night wouldn’t end when the bar closed. Robert was in a different category, though. They’d only just stopped butting heads, and while that had done a world of difference, Elizabeth was hesitant to read more into it due to work. The offer of dinner on her birthday, though, had seemed very open-ended, and being a few weeks away, Elizabeth would have plenty of time to see how well their new found friendship went.

“I ah, I _don’t_ need someone to keep me out of trouble.”

“Oh.”

“I do like the idea of good company on my birthday, though. Could you pick a nice place and swing our schedules, so we’re not expected to go into work with hangovers?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” His smile was infectious, and Elizabeth was grateful to the cab for honking again, distracting her from it.

“I should go before he leaves. Thank you for dinner, Robert.”

“Anytime.” 

Robert opened the front door, walking Elizabeth to the slightly impatient cab. Getting the cab for her, Robert smiled, and Elizabeth impulsively leaned over and hugged him.

“Good night Robert.” Stepping away from him quickly, Elizabeth slid into the cab and smiled up at him.

“Good night Lizzie.”

A good night indeed.


End file.
